


Kink Meme fics

by cptxrogers



Series: just the smut [9]
Category: Marvel 616, Marvel Ultimates
Genre: Anal Fingering, Coming Untouched, Costume Kink, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Hydra Steve Rogers, M/M, Masturbation, Nomad Steve Rogers, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn Watching, Sexual Fantasy, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-20 03:34:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11912361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cptxrogers/pseuds/cptxrogers
Summary: A collection of short and smutty Steve/Tony fics, originally posted anonymously for the cap-ironman kink meme.Chapter 1: (Early 616) Tony owns a series of Nomad-themed porn moviesChapter 2: (616) Steve has an extra sensitive prostateChapter 3: (Ults) Tony talking Steve off over the phoneChapter 4: (616) Hydra Cap masturbates to thoughts of Tony (dubcon)





	1. (Early 616) Tony owns a series of Nomad-themed porn movies

**Author's Note:**

> I love the kink meme??? Honestly what a delight. Come [join us](http://cap-ironman.dreamwidth.org/tag/kink+meme) if you want to post a prompt or a fill!
> 
> If you were wondering who it was who wrote the silly Nomad smut and the phone sex.... yeah, that was me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the [prompt](http://cap-ironman.dreamwidth.org/1755776.html?thread=13436288#cmt13436288):
> 
> _The Nomad costume becomes very popular with the porn industry and there is a whole series of porn films making use of the Nomad name and the silliest approximations of the costume._
> 
> _Tony owns them all._
> 
> _Does Steve know? How does he find out? And what does he do with the knowledge?_

Mr. Stark had kindly provided one of those fancy new VCR machines for the Avengers’ lounge, and had even patiently instructed Steve on how to use it. Steve had been looking forward to watching that _Star Wars_ movie that everyone was talking about - even Thor had seen it! - so he’d waited for a quiet Saturday evening at the mansion, made himself a big bowl of popcorn, and settled down for a movie night.

Clint had told him he’d left the video in the machine, as he’d been watching _Star Wars_ for the fifth time earlier in the week. The man sure did love his spaceships. So Steve arranged himself comfortably on the sofa and hit the play button on the remote.

“Oh, Nomad! Oh, yes! Just like that!”

The TV sprang to life, showing a scene of a man and a woman engaged in enthusiastic congress. Steve gasped - he knew what porn was, of course, and had even drawn a few racy comics for cash back in the war - but seeing people fornicating on tape in full technicolor was quite the new experience for him.

He scrambled for the remote to turn it off, cheeks flushing, but his attention was caught by a flash of dark blue and yellow spandex fabric pulled tight across thick muscles. The man in the video was wearing an outfit that seemed strangely familiar.

“Give it to me, Nomad!” the woman on the video called.

Looking closer, Steve was shocked to discover that the man was wearing, well, he was wearing _his_ costume. Steve hadn’t worn his Nomad costume for a few years, but he remembered the hours he spent stitching it himself.

The dark blue body suit and the yellow cape were the same as his, as were those snappy yellow boots. His version of the costume, however, had not been split all the way to the crotch, and had certainly not included a flap of fabric to allow easy access to his cock.

Steve hit the pause button and contemplated how on earth one was supposed to react to finding porn of oneself.

He ejected the video from the VCR and stared at the label. _RESCUED BY NOMAD!_ was the title. There was a subtitle beneath which said _He saved me from a crime and then he saved me from my horniness!_

Steve considered the video for some time before quietly slipping it back into the VCR and deciding that tonight might perhaps be an evening better spent training rather than watching movies.

 

* * *

 

Steve had not forgotten about the porn incident by the next time he had a Saturday night off, a few months later. This time for his movie night, he resolved, he was going to check what video was in the machine before he started playing it.

Currently in the VCR was a Russian-language version of _Anna Karenina_ which Steve suspected had something to do with Natasha. He ejected it and went to return it to the closet where the videotapes were kept.

The closet was stuffed full of videos, everything from _James Bond_ (though they were the new Roger Moore ones, and Steve preferred Sean Connery) to _Yellow Submarine_ (but he privately thought that the Stones were much better than the Beatles). He dug through the closet, attempting to find the sci-fi vids, but was unsuccessful.

He did, however, find a battered old cardboard box marked ‘ _Mr. Stark’s private collection’_ buried right at the back of the closet, and he thought that would be just the thing. Mr. Stark had such good taste, surely one of his favorite films would suit Steve.

He carried the box over to the sofa and opened it up. The first title that caught his eye was one called _Nomad: Man of the World,_ which he thought sounded like a terrific action romp. He popped it into the machine.

It was not, in fact, a terrific action romp.

As soon as the opening credits faded to a shot of a man dressed in a Nomad costume, surveying a map of the world, Steve felt a twist of discomfort twinned with a thrill of excitement. The movie followed the, uhh, touching story of a hero travelling the world in search of his destiny, and the many, ahem, good friends that he made along the way. The movie’s producers had captured the costume rather well, though Steve couldn’t imagine why they decided to make the body suit into booty short length as opposed to the sensible fully covered legs that he had worn.

He ejected the video, and with curiosity overwhelming him, he took another video from the box -  the patriotically-titled _All-American Hero_ \- and put it into the machine instead.

This one featured a man in a Nomad costume which had a zip running from the neck, down the chest, down to the crotch, and then all the way down and around to the small of the back. That was certainly creative, Steve thought, but he was concerned that the metal zipper would be rather chafing. The man in the video didn’t seem to mind though, especially when a handsome gentleman with a fine mustache unzipped him all the way around and fucked him up against a wall.

The next video he looked at was titled _My Night With Nomad_ and featured a Nomad costume which was little more than a string running from each shoulder to the groin, really more of a jockstrap than a uniform. It didn’t look terribly practical. The boots were rather good though, Steve would give it that.

Steve worked his way through the collection. There were videos of Nomad with women, and with men, and a few solo pieces. There was even one dubiously-plotted movie that ended with a scene of Nomad and Captain America together, though that one was a bit hard to see as it had been watched and rewound so many times that the tape was disintegrating.

It dawned on Steve that some people must have really, really liked his Nomad costume. It dawned on him further still that one of those people might be the impossibly desirable, impossibly unattainable Mr. Stark. It took a few minutes to wrap his head around that little realization.

He was still considering the implications with a video playing in the background (in this one Nomad had been captured by an evil villain and was forced to win his freedom by heroically fucking every lackey in the base) when he heard a sudden strangled gasp. He looked around to see Mr. Stark standing in the doorway, an expression of increasing panic on his face.

Mr. Stark looked at Steve. He looked at the screen. He looked back at Steve.

“This is… uhh…. look, I can explain,” he said frantically. “It’s for, uhh, research. I had to buy a copy of that movie so that I could, umm, manage your image. As the team benefactor it’s important for me to stay abreast of all PR matters regarding the team.”

Steve tried to hide his smile as Mr. Stark looked at the open cardboard box next to him and his eyes went even wider.

“I had to buy _all_ those videos, you see.”

“For research,” Steve said, nodding and doing his level best not to laugh.

Mr. Stark nodded along in frantic agreement.

“Well in that case,” Steve said, standing up off the sofa and walking towards him, “you know I still have the Nomad costume upstairs. Perhaps I could model it for you and you could see how accurate these movies are?” Steve grinned at him wickedly. “For research.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Mr. Stark breathed. “Oh yes, Captain, that sounds most… educational.”

Steve moved closer and laid a hand on his chest. “Please, Mr. Stark,” he said, leaning in to breathe in his ear, “call me Nomad.”


	2. (Ambiguous) Steve has an extra sensitive prostate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the [prompt](http://cap-ironman.dreamwidth.org/1755776.html?thread=13452416#cmt13452416):
> 
>  
> 
> _The serum brought Steve's body to the peak of human perfection, and one of the things that was enhanced was his prostate's sensitivity (possible comic book science reason: it made his semen more viable and thus made him more virile). Steve either has never had anal sex or hasn't had it since before he took the serum, so he's completely unaware that this is the case. But when Tony gets his fingers or his cock up there for the first time, it's pretty hard to ignore how unbelievably good it feels. Cue Steve being completely overwhelmed with the pleasure and aching for more._
> 
>  
> 
> _Bonuses for:_  
>  _\+ Steve turning into a needy, loud, strung-out mess because it just feels too good_  
>  _\+ Steve coming untouched_  
>  _\+ Loving dirty talk from Tony_

“Are you sure about trying this?” Tony asks gently.

“Get on with it, Tony, I haven’t got all day,” Steve huffs, and he’s trying to look cocky but it’s belied by the blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Alright, alright, Captain Demanding,” Tony teases, slowly and deliberately rolling up the sleeves of his expensive shirt. He leans over to peck Steve on the cheek before moving to whisper in his ear: “You’re going to love this.”

Tony is still in his suit pants and waistcoat, but Steve is spread out gloriously naked on the bed beneath him, miles of firm muscles and pale skin on display, his cock hard against his stomach and his thighs quivering with anticipation.

(When they’d first started this, whatever this thing between them was, Steve had been shy and awkward, uncomfortable about his sexuality and endearingly unsure of himself. But with some encouragement, he had got more confident at voicing his preferences, even occasionally asking Tony about things he wanted to try. 

And if Tony’s a little bit proud of that, so what? It’s not every day that you get to corrupt a symbol of national purity to the point he’s begging to suck your cock.)

Tony kneels between Steve’s legs and runs a hand down his chest, lightly teasingly across his nipples and then down to his cock to make Steve writhe. He takes a moment to cup Steve’s balls in his hand, warm and firm. Then he runs his fingers lower and lets them skate down across his perineum and towards his hole.

(What he hadn’t expected was for Steve to be quite so keen on trying out bottoming, but how could Tony possibly refuse that request? Steve had never tried it before though, so Tony suggested that they would start with fingering, and see how that went. Steve had pounced on him the minute he’d got home this evening, and really, who was he to argue with a horny supersoldier?)

The first delicate press of fingers against his hole makes Steve gasp and the blush spread from his cheeks down his throat and across his shoulders.

“Mmm, you’re sensitive,” Tony says, thoroughly enjoying himself already. Steve looks like he’s trying to pout, but Tony flicks his fingers again, just catching on his rim, and Steve whines instead.

“You look so beautiful like this,” he says, eyes raking over Steve before pausing to grab up the lube and coat his fingers. “So hard and ready for me.” He rubs the lube between his fingers, warming it up. Steve stares up at him, pupils blown.

“This is going to feel so good,” he promises, bringing his fingers back to Steve’s hole and rubbing gently. Steve twitches and wriggles, uncertainty and desire warring on his face.

Tony dips a fingertip inside, and desire firmly wins out. Steve exhales like all the air has been pushed out of him. 

“You’re doing so well,” Tony murmurs and pauses for a second. “So hot and tight around my finger. Do you want more, gorgeous?”

Steve swallows hard and nods.

Tony grins like a Cheshire cat and slides his finger deeper into Steve, pushing past the ring of muscle with a firm insistence. Steve arches his back and lets out a high, breathy noise when Tony rubs at his inside walls.

“You’re perfect,” he says, and means it. Steve’s cock is straining against his stomach, twitching each time Tony slides his finger in and out.

Tony teases him gently, murmuring encouragements, and he feels Steve tightening around his finger. “Do you think you can take another finger?” he purrs and Steve nods frantically.

He smiles a slides a second finger in, smooth and slow. Steve is huffing with impatience and frustration and Tony drinks in the sight of him.

“Easy, babe,” he says softly, pumping his fingers in and out slowly, watching Steve wriggle and grit his teeth. “I’ve got you.”

Steve’s legs fall further open and Tony pushes his knees back with his spare hand. “That’s it, spread for me, let me see you.”

Steve is turning his face to the side to bury it in the pillow, like it’s all too much already. And when Tony flicks his fingers up and inside and brushes them across Steve’s prostate, he jack knives in half and howls.

“Oh, babe, you really are sensitive,” he says, pulling back his fingers to tease around the rim some more. “Is that a super serum thing?”

Steve mumbles something indistinguishable into the pillow, looking embarrassed. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Tony says, and he goes to move his hand away, looking for a less delicate area to work on. “I'll be gentle.”

But Steve grabs at his wrist and holds it in place. “Don’t stop,” Steve says without looking at him, voice muffled by the pillow. “Do that again. Please.”

“Anything you want, darling,” Tony reassures him, sliding his fingers back inside the wet heat. Steve’s cock is red against his stomach and starts leaking precome as Tony fingers him.

Tony’s own cock is insistently hard inside his pants, but he ignores it. There’ll be time for that later. Now all his attention is on Steve: the way he’s rubbing himself against the sheets, the little noises he’s making, how his cocks spurts little flicks of precome every time his fingers get anywhere near his prostate.

“More,” Steve moans, and Tony hums with satisfaction. 

“Alright then, gorgeous, I’ll give you more,” Tony says, pulling his fingers out with a filthy wet sound. “Turn around and get on your hands and knees for me.”

Steve pushes himself unsteadily up off the bed and turns around, kneeling and bending over to present himself to Tony. Tony can’t resist spanking playfully at his ass and Steve lets out a little gasp. Tony makes a mental note of that for later.

Tony settles himself between Steve’s knees and massages the firm globes of his ass. “Look at you, so ready to take it,” he hums, letting his thumbs dip into the cleft between his cheeks. Steve’s thighs tremble when his thumbs brush over his hole, still wet with lube.

“Come on, Tony, I want it, I want-”

“I know what you want,” Tony says, and slides two fingers back inside him.

“Yes,” Steve breathes as Tony lazily fucks him with his fingers. “Oh, Tony, yes, just like that.”

When Tony angles his fingers and aims for his prostate, Steve clenches around him and lets out a string of expletives that Tony hadn’t even known he was aware of. 

“Language, Captain,” he teases, brushing the delicate bundle of nerve endings with his fingers again so Steve sobs instead of giving the sassy reply he clearly wants to. 

Steve has dropped down onto his elbows and there are beads of sweat running down his temples. Tony’s never seen him looking this wrecked, not even after hours of training or long, hard missions. Tony slides his free hand down Steve’s back and feels him quavering.

“You like that, huh? You like feeling my fingers inside you?”

“Fuck, yes, I like it, it’s so good, Tony-” Steve cuts himself off and rubs his face against the pillow, his hands gripping onto the slats of the headboard so hard that they creak ominously. 

There’s a puddle of precome dampening the sheets beneath Steve’s heavy cock, which twitches every time Tony slides his fingers inside. Steve can come a whole lot, Tony’s discovered - thick, messy spurts which get everywhere. Steve always seems a little embarrassed about it, but it turns him on too, knowing that Tony can see how much he wants it.

“You’re getting so wet for me, darling, making such a mess of yourself,” he says breathily. “You’re so beautiful when you’re covered in cum.”

Steve flushes even more and pushes his face into the pillow, muffling his broken moans.

“You think you could come just from my fingers in your ass?” Tony asks, feeling just a little bit smug. 

Steve arches back against his fingers, trying to push him in deeper, and whines out, “Yes, Tony, please, don't stop. Want it so bad."

There are tears forming at the corner of Steve's eyes, but he's still begging Tony to keep going. Tony places a hand firmly on his back to hold him in place and fucks him harder with his fingers.

Each time Tony slides his fingers deep into Steve and brushes past his prostate Steve moans aloud like he just can't hold it in. Soon his legs are quaking with the effort of holding still and he starts pushing back to meet Tony's fingers, hungry for it and far beyond caring about propriety. 

"That's it, babe, take what you need,” he says, and Steve slams himself back onto Tony's hand, taking it all.

Tony can feel Steve constricting around him, muscles like a vice around his fingers, all his usual care and decorum forgotten. He's panting and moaning, the gorgeous, desperate noises he's making audible even through the pillow he's buried his face into. 

Tony’s hand is starting to cramp and his dick is painfully hard in his pants, but there isn't a force in the universe which could distract him from Steve right now. Steve is drooling into the pillow and making these little high pitch whining sounds as Tony forces his fingers deeper, feeling the wet heat of Steve around him.

“Oh Tony, oh, I'm going to, oh Tony, I'm close-" 

“There you go, gorgeous, that's it, come for me.” He runs his fingers firmly across Steve’s prostate and Steve’s entire body tenses and goes absolutely rigid for a second.

Steve makes a noise like the air is being ripped from his lungs as he comes, body shaking and cock spurting thick ropes of come all over the sheets. 

Tony keeps pumping his fingers, working Steve through it. Steve keeps coming, soaking the sheets with cum and gasping for air as Tony teases a few last spurts out of him before he collapses heavily onto the bed. 

Tony gently extracts his fingers, wiping them off on his pants and staining a wet slick across his thigh. 

He moves up to pet Steve’s hair and to brush the sweaty strands from his forehead. 

"That was… Oh, Tony, that was…” Steve beams as he sprawls languidly across the damp sheets. He looks up at Tony, suddenly shy. “Can we do that again? I want another," he confesses, features glowing with pleasure and want.  

Tony grins like all his Christmases have come at once. "Babe,” he says with adoration. “We can do this all night.”


	3. (Ults) Tony talking Steve off over the phone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the [prompt](http://cap-ironman.dreamwidth.org/1755776.html?thread=13409408#cmt13409408):
> 
>  
> 
> _(Ults) Tony talking Steve off over the phone_

[dial tone]

[dialing]

[ringing]

[sighing] “This is Rogers. What is it now?”

“Mr President, is that any way to greet your favorite adviser?”

[more sighing] “Hi Tony. It's been a long day.”

“I can imagine. Executive orders to sign, minions to order about, that sort of thing.”

“Something like that.”

“Is that why you sound so tense?”

“Sure... something like that.”

“Aww, darling. Perhaps you've been missing me.”

“Don't flatter yourself, Stark.”

“Missing certain bits of me in any case.”

“Tony!”

“Ahh, that's it, isn't it? Feeling frustrated? Like you need to blow off a little steam? I can help you with that.”

“Tony...”

“Are you in your office? I can't believe you haven't let me blow you in there yet. There's plenty of space under your desk.”

[spluttering]

“I could stay under there all day and blow you between meetings. Or perhaps during meetings. Do you think the Secretary of State would notice?”

“I think he might. You're not that subtle.”

“Maybe you like the idea of having an audience.”

[small gasp]

“Oh, you do like that, don't you, Steve? You like the idea of me sucking you off in front of your whole cabinet.”

“Uh.”

“I'd get under the desk and rub my face up against your crotch. Wait til you were nice and worked up and then unzip your pants.”

“Mmm. Then what?”

“Then I'd take your cock out. You're so big, you know I love that. How I have to stretch my lips to get them round your nice fat cock.”

“Yeah, I noticed you liked that.”

“It's real nice. I'd lick just at the head, tease you a bit. Get you all wound up. Make you grab onto my hair and force me to take it all.”

“Fuck.”

“Language, Mr President. If you're good, I'd let you fuck my face. Hold me down and use me however you want. Let you fuck my throat til I'm hoarse.”

“Damn. That'd be one way to shut you up.”

“You don't fool me, darling. I know how you love it when I use my words. The more filth that comes out of my mouth, the more you want me to take you apart.”

“Yeah? You think you’re all that, huh? You think you can make me come just by talking?”

“Oh, I know I can. With a vivid imagination like yours, I bet you’re picturing me on my knees in front of you right now, aren’t you? Thinking about all the ways you could make me take it.”

“Mmm, yeah.”

“You know I’m a man of many talents. Once I’d finished sucking your cock and you’d come down my throat, you know what I’d do next?”

“What?”

“I’d flip you round and bend you over that desk, and take my sweet time rimming you.”

[gargling noises]

“I know we haven’t tried that yet but I’m sure you’d love it. Feeling my tongue circling round your hole.”

“Tony!”

“I start off slow, just lapping at you. I’d make you beg for more, then I’d open you up with my tongue.”

“Yeah?”

“You’d make quite the picture: the president bent over his desk with his underwear round his thighs, and me with my face buried in your ass.”

“That is… Tony, that is an unpatriotic thing to say.”

“Oh, not at all. I like to show my devotion to my president by tonguing his sweet little hole til he comes all over his paperwork. It’s how I salute the flag.”

[heavy breathing]

“I’d get you good and wet. Slip my tongue inside and tongue-fuck you and make you writhe.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“I’d like to see how many times I could make you come. I know how sensitive you are. One of these days I’m going to tie you up and play with you til you can’t come any more. See if you can keep count.”

“God fucking damn it.”

“Mmm, you like the idea of being tied up? My day just keeps getting better. I’ll have to invent some heavy duty restraints.”

“You’d… you’d do that for me?”

“Darling, it would be my absolute pleasure. You’d look extraordinary, all that rippling muscle and miles of perfect skin held down with thick restraints. No matter how much you struggled, you’d be at my mercy.”

“Oh, oh fuck, oh Tony...”

“I could take all night with you. Fuck you with my tongue, then my fingers. Then a toy, if you like. Work you over real good til you’re covered in your own come.”

“Oh, Tony, yes, that’s it.”

“That’s the thing, big boy. Let me have it. Come on, I want to hear you come.”

“Don’t stop. I’m close.”

“Yeah? I bet you’re a right state right now, blushing and sweating with your cock in your hand.”

“Yes. Oh fuck.”

“Thinking about me being there with you and all the things I’d do to you. That’s it. Give it up for me, darling.”

“Oh, Tony. Tony. _Tony_.”

“Mmm, that sounded good. Feeling better now, sweetheart?”

[Humming] “Much better. You always know what to say.”

“Just one of my many talents.”

“See you soon?”

“Real soon, darling.”


	4. (616) Hydra Cap masturbates to thoughts of Tony (dubcon)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the [prompt](http://cap-ironman.dreamwidth.org/1777197.html?thread=13629229#cmt13629229):
> 
> _Hydra Steve vigorously masturbates to the fantasy of being with Tony._
> 
> _\+ This fantasy fills Steve with shame_   
>  _++ This fantasy involves hurting Tony or using him against his will_   
>  _+++ Steve puts a few fingers in his ass_   
>  _++++ Steve cries at the end_
> 
>  
> 
> This one has a warning for fantasies of dubcon/noncon and general Hydra Cap nastiness.

This was the quietest place on the Helicarrier, Steve had noticed. Perhaps that was why he kept coming back here. The roar of the engines was deadened to a dull rumble by the steel-reinforced walls and the lighting was dim, the soft blue glow of the pod the only illumination in the darkness. Steve swiftly locked down the room and disabled the security cameras.

It was strange, Steve thought as he looked down at Tony inside his pod. Tony normally never stopped moving; chatting constantly and gesturing with his hands and pacing around the room. Seeing him so still was wrong, disturbing on some fundamental level.

The leaders of Hydra had thought that he had wanted to best Tony, to defeat him and prove his superiority. But that wasn’t it. That was never what he wanted.

He wanted Tony at his side. He wanted him to disagree about tactics and approaches, to challenge him, he wanted them to argue like they used to. He wanted to find Tony’s weak spots and to push at them, to bend him and undermine him until he conceded Steve’s arguments and accepted the rise of Hydra as the inevitability that it was.

He did not want Tony like this: silent and cold. It wasn’t right. Tony had always been so full of life.

Memories jostled at the back of his mind: the comfort of their camaraderie on the battlefield, the pride he’d felt when he discovered that Tony and Iron Man were one and the same, the little glow of warmth he’d feel whenever Tony called him Winghead.

But those weren’t his memories. They belonged to the other Steve Rogers, the only who lacked clarity and focus. That sad, lost little man who had been so desperate for affection that Steve felt almost embarrassed on his behalf.

He’d wanted Tony too, the other Steve. He’d never acted on it, but Steve could remember his daydreams and his fantasies, even the ones he’d tried to repress. The other Steve had wanted so much to take Tony’s hand and to walk the streets of New York together. He’d thought about waking up next to him, about how mussed Tony’s hair would be first thing in the morning and how he’d turn to gaze at Steve with a soft smile. He’d fantasized about kissing him on New Year’s Eve, imagined the prickle of his goatee against his face and how Tony would moan and pull him closer. How Tony would pull back and smile like they shared a secret.

It was pathetic. The other Steve couldn’t even admit to himself what he really desired. But this Steve knew what they both wanted: Tony, on his knees, begging for mercy.

This Steve had no interest in Tony’s soft kisses and secret smiles. 

He was getting hard just thinking about it. How Tony would fight him at first, would insist that he didn’t want Steve as he was now. But Steve would find a way to persuade him that his current form was for the best, that it was necessary, that there was no point in resisting.

Steve splayed a possessive hand over the pod as he cupped himself through his uniform and unzipped his pants. Tony’s face was just a few inches beneath his fingers, and he imagined he could almost feel Tony’s breath against his hand. He imagined how Tony would look up at him with a mix of sorrow and defiance and fear. The feeling of power rippled through him and he took out his cock and stroked himself roughly.

He’d have to get creative with Tony to keep him in line. There was no point in threatening to inflict pain on Tony himself; Steve knew that he’d withstand any torture he could dish out. But there was a better way to make him compliant: to threaten others. Those kids he was so fond of, Kamala and Sam and Miles. If Steve were to threaten their wellbeing, Tony would do anything he said.

Tony would be mute and pliant when Steve pushed him down to his knees and shoved a couple of gloved fingers into his mouth. It would be slick and warm inside his mouth, inviting, and Steve would line his cock up to Tony’s lips, sliding in smoothly. He would let Tony take a single breath then he'd shove his cock deeper, force him to take it all. 

Steve’s hand pumped fast around his reddened cock, the thrum of desire and anger coursing through him. He thought about how he’d grab the back of Tony’s head, dig his fingers into the soft curls at the nape of his neck and use his grip to push his cock further down Tony’s throat until he choked and gagged.

Once he was good and ready, he’d pull Tony off his cock by the hair and yank him to his feet. Steve would strip off Tony’s clothes, spin him around, bend him over, kick out one ankle so his legs were spread nice and wide. Steve could grab a rough handful of his ass and remind Tony that  _ this ass was his, only his, and he’d use it however and whenever he wanted _ .

Tony would take being fucked stoically, biting his lip to keep himself quiet and bracing himself against the discomfort of being used. He’d curl up inside himself and tune out the external world while Steve pounded into him. He’d be silent and boneless when Steve grabbed his hips hard enough to leave marks and spilled himself deep inside.

Afterwards, though, Steve wouldn’t be done with him yet. That would surprise Tony, pull him back into the moment, force him to confront that Steve wanted more than just to use his ass for his own pleasure.

Steve would spread Tony’s cheeks open, see his puffy hole and watch his cum leaking out. He’d lean closer and let his breath puff across Tony’s hole, watch the way that Tony would twitch and try to twist himself out of Steve’s grasp when he realized what he was doing.

But Steve had always been the stronger of the two of them. He’d hold Tony firmly in place while he licked at his hole, dipping his tongue in to taste his own cum deep inside Tony.

Tony wouldn’t keep quiet then. He’d gasp, and whine, and eventually he’d even beg Steve to stop. As he chanted a litany of  _ no, don’t, I can’t, please stop _ , Steve would lick him open and fuck him with his tongue.

He could make Tony feel good. Make him enjoy this, make him complicit in it. Using Tony as a convenient hole to fuck would be a pleasure, but forcing Tony to realize that his body wanted what Steve gave him would be a joy.

When Tony finally stopped fighting and gave in, Steve would lap at him over and over, pushing him past his discomfort and into the guilty abyss of pleasure. Tony would moan and his legs would shake, then he’d come with a feeble little whine while tears ran down his cheeks.

That was the way to break Tony, Steve knew. Not with pain but with pleasure.

Steve’s fingers rubbed at the underside of his cock, sliding up to squeeze achingly tight beneath the head. It wasn’t enough. He wanted more.

He shoved his pants and underwear down to his thighs, bending forward to rest his chest on Tony’s pod. Only a few inches of air and glass separated their bodies, and it was almost as if Tony were spread beneath him sleeping peacefully. Like he was just waiting for Steve to come along and use him.

Steve brought his hand around to his ass and hissed as he pushed a finger inside himself. With no lube, the sensation was rough and painful, just how he wanted it. 

Tony had been in love with Steve, that much was clear. Steve could see it in the way Tony beamed at him when he entered the room, the way he would talk with him in that carefully earnest manner like he was always chasing after Steve’s approval.

The other Steve had never so much as suspected it, fool that he was. But this Steve had known straight away, from the minute he’d met Tony. He’d observed Tony’s attraction to his body, but what had shone through most clearly was Tony’s adoration for the other Steve’s principals.

Steve fucked himself roughly with his fingers, a jolt of anger lancing through him when he thought about how Tony had smiled at him when he’d thought he was that other Steve. That lesser version that lacked vision and ambition. Tony deserved better than that.

It wasn’t fair that Tony should be so devoted to that outdated relic. That soft, rudderless version of Steve wasn’t worthy of Tony’s love and affection. This Steve would make Tony see that, would make him his, so thoroughly that eventually he’d forget that Steve was ever any different from how he was now.

Steve twisted his fingers deep inside himself, sending sharp spikes of ache through his body. It wasn’t right that Tony was here, so close to him, and yet so far away. Tears spilled from Steve’s eyes as he jerked himself with his other hand, anger and jealousy and spite making him tug too hard on his cock.

He came with a deep, guttural groan, spilling thick streaks of cum across the glass of Tony’s pod. He collapsed into a nearby chair with a sigh.

Tony wouldn’t be like this for long, Steve knew. He’d come back. Tony always came back. One day he’d wake up and Steve could show him how things were better this way. How Steve was better this way. He just had to be patient.

He produced a handkerchief from a pocket and carefully wiped down the glass, removing all traces of his pleasure and gazing at Tony’s impassive features.

He leaned forward, face pressed right to the glass, Tony lying still beneath him. “Soon, Tony,” he promised. “Soon.”


End file.
